


Speeding Right On Past

by GhostGarrison



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, First Date, Fluff, M/M, Speed Dating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-25
Updated: 2014-07-25
Packaged: 2018-02-10 09:18:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2019594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GhostGarrison/pseuds/GhostGarrison
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam Winchester isn't big into the dating scene, and his job keeps him from meeting people, so he has to actually put in some effort and he ends up attending speed dating events. And apparently, he's not the only one who is <i>just like that.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Speeding Right On Past

The line for the event is moderately long—that’s what you get for going to one of these things in the city, not in some dumb corner part of the suburbs.

But yet again, Sam has been to those too, with absolutely zero success.

He waits in line silently, avoiding some of the people who have already begun to socialize. Which, to be honest, is _exactly_ his problem. He isn’t huge into socialization, at least when it’s not strictly about work or research or something that couldn’t remotely veer off into uncertain territory.

Two women in front of him—a pretty blonde woman and a younger mid-twenties girl with dark, dark brown hair—are discussing their expectations this evening, going off back and forth at rapid fire. Sam can’t help but listen in.

"This is the third one I’ve been to in two months!" the blonde woman says, almost like boasting. Sam’s not sure if that’s even something to brag about, but yet again, he’s only been to a few of these.

"Oh, really?" the brunette woman replies, interested. "I’ve been to one before, but this is my first in awhile since I just broke up with my boyfriend of three years."

"Oh, you poor dear."

"No, not really, He was a really big asshole," the brunette replies, lips tilting up in a smirk. "Besides, I’m on the market again, and dating is fun!"

"I hear you, girl. Let me tell you about the last date I was on…"

Sam stares out towards the street, trying to tune the ladies out. It isn’t his business, and it’s kind of intimidating to hear that the people who attend these events date so much. He’s not even sure he’ll enjoy it, or find anyone interesting at all. Maybe he can find a few friends.

A man and a woman come out of the restaurant’s private room’s doors, linked arm in arm. The man clears his throat.

"Excuse me! If I could have your attention…" The line’s chatter quiets down. "Thank you all for coming to Chad and Martha’s—that’s us—Speed Dating! We’ll start soon, there’s just been a mishap with how many chairs we requested, so it’ll be a bit while we clear that up."

The ladies in front of Sam immediately resume talking, full speed ahead like they were never interrupted—and Sam immediately tries to tune them out again, shoving his hands into his pockets of his pants and staring out towards the road again, watching cars go by slowly through the busy downtown streets.

"Uh," a voice says from behind him and Sam spins at the waist to see the source—a shorter man with dark hair and blue eyes, dressed a little more business casual than the event requires. His voice is gruff and his jaw is stubbly, contrasting the rest of his put-together appearance. "Have you been to one of these before?"

Blue eyes flick towards the doors of the restaurant’s private room, and Sam just then realizes that he’s asked a question.

"Oh, uh," Sam scratches his head. "A few, I guess"

"I haven’t," the man says sheepishly. "I wasn’t sure how this worked, or what kind of people would be here…"

"Hey, I had no idea either at first," Sam assures him. "I mean, I _still_ have no idea about this kind of stuff, but hey, they definitely know what they’re doing, I guess. And probably so do most of these people.”

"I agree," the man says, taking a moment before continuing. "But that doesn’t make me any less nervous."

The man doesn’t strike Sam as the nervous type. “Why?”

"I’m not good at socialization," comes the plain reply.

Sam can’t help but to bark out a laugh. “Really? Because you’re the one who started this conversation in the first place. I mean, I was just gonna stand here and not talk to anyone until they let us in, and you want to say you’re bad at socializing?”

The man smiles. “I suppose, but you’re not a bad conversationalist.”

"Hah, thanks," Sam says. "Neither are you."

"Really? Hm," the man hums. "Tell that to the people I work for."

"And what do you do?"

"I sell ad space on the radio during the daytime. It requires a… exorbitant amount of conversation."

"I bet it does." Sam laughs again. "But you said ‘during the daytime,’ so is there something else?"

The man’s head perks up, like he didn’t even realize he said it. “Oh, I’m a novelist.”

"Really?" Sam’s head turns to look at the man, who is bashfully hiding his face by looking out towards the street. "That’s amazing!"

"It’s really nothing," the man tries to say before Sam interjects again.

"No, that’s really cool and interesting. What kinds of things do you write?"

"A mix of things…"

The conversation spirals into a frenzy of book genres—the man writes science fiction mystery novels and the occasional dystopian planet story—and then delves into favorite authors, books, recommendations. Sam doesn’t even have to try to tune out the ladies that stand in line in front of him, he’s so absorbed into his own conversation with the man.

It hits him that he’s holding nothing back—normally he’s ultra-concerned with coming across as very nerdy and bookish, but the man seems to be right on the same page as he is, and it’s one of the better conversations Sam’s had all month.

"Excuse me!" one of the event runners announces, clapping her hands. "We’re about to begin in just a minute!"

The ladies in front of them hush down, whispering excitedly and Sam’s own conversation has been put on hold. When the woman—Martha, right?—retreats back into the event space, Sam turns back to the man to continue the conversation, but apparently that’s not what is happening.

"Do you think we’ll get to talk?" the man asks with a pensive look on his face, looking out at the street like Sam was before, watching the cars idle and taxis cruise slowly by, looking for fares.

Sam frowns, brows furrowed. “But we already are?”

"No, I meant…" the man starts, and what he’s asking finally clicks with Sam after a few seconds—remembering where they are and what they’re there to do.

"During the actual speed dating part?"

The man nods.

"Yeah, definitely. This is a bisexual or pansexual or whatever speed dating thing, so I don’t think there will be any of that kind of discrimination…"

The man nods again silently, considering Sam’s words for a moment before looking back directly at him. “I don’t think I want to talk to anyone else now.”

Sam has to double-take. “What?”

"I’m no longer interested in speaking with anyone else tonight."

"Oh. _Oh!_ ” Sam says, taking in what the man just said. And if Sam’s honest with himself, he doesn’t want to either. “Uh, you—I mean, we—I guess—uh… so… wanna ditch this and go get a drink somewhere quieter?”

The man’s tan cheeks turns a little pink as he nods and Sam nearly does the same at the sight of him. “Yes, let’s.”

"My name is Sam, by the way."

"Nice to meet you, Sam. I’m Castiel."

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for tumblr, find me @ GhostGarrison


End file.
